Capital Vices: Saligia
by masterrsloth
Summary: Every century a same prophecy needs to be fulfilled in order to prevent the apocalypse. No one has given that prophecy much thought since the Dark Ages, it seems to fulfil itself every century with nothing much of a fuss so it's never scheduled to be revised by the Keeper. On the beginning of 21st century the new persons concerned on its yellowed tag are Phil Lester and Dan Howell.


**Capital Vices: Saligia**

 _Disclaimer: I know Dan and Phil are real people and so do you, obviously I don't own them. And just the fact I am writing fanfiction proves I don't own a cent from Harry Potter. Let's move on._

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 **Chapter Unum: Divinatio**

Prophecies are not always epic like The Prophecy (with capital letters because it was the most important prophecy from the last millennium, predicting the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and all) but less important prophecies, made during everyday life. Some were created during an agitated night never to be remembered by anyone, others were just a feeling someone voiced out loud not even realising they were speaking to thin air, others were deemed children's imagination acting up and so on. Most people didn't recognise the little prophecies.

However, no matter how insignificant those prophecies were every single one made on british grounds earned they special space on level nine of the British Ministry of Magic just across what used to be the Time Room.

After the Chosen One's adventure on the depths of the Department of Mysteries only a few of the prophecy orbs had remained undisturbed and only by 1999 when the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry received their students for the first time after the Battle of Hogwarts was that the Keeper of the Hall of Prophecy finished organising the place with brand new shelves and positions for the new prophecies to come.

 _'It was pretty satisfying actually'_ , the keeper thought to himself as he activated the automatic filling of prophecies, _'now the shelves are colour coordinated instead of plain black.'_

 **'-.-'**

In 2003, by the middle of the school's term when a bored Phil was the center of attention of the third year Divination class, a prophecy was produced. He had taken the class expecting something cool to be taught only to be disappointed by a teacher who predicted Clampbook's death on the first day of class and went on to predict the entire class death by the end of the second month.

He turned the tarot card from the day's _'Predicting the Future as Muggles'_ lesson and raised his hand with the card to the entire class to see while he read from the book on a bored voice:

"It's the Knight of Wands," he identified the card on Trelawney's request, "So, hm, some guy is gonna have a big impact, an energetic warrior. He has a hasty personality and is quick to love or hate."

The book seemed extremely geared towards girls and he had his doubts if it hadn't been bought from some sort of old muggle used books store. Someone behind him whispered they were curious on how Professor Trelawney would turn this in his death.

"Interesting," Phil deadpanned trying to conceal the high amount of sarcasm he wanted to declare. He heard some snickers from the back of the classroom, he probably didn't succeed.

Half the class sighed when instead of just predicting the death of one of them Trelawney went on to predict Headmistress McGonagall's death by an old lover who was a knight who fought on Grindelwald's times. The headmistress wouldn't be happy about the divination teacher stretching her age like that.

Phil twirled the tarot card on his hands and absently placed it inside of his backpack. It had a nice design and it was highgly unlikely Trelawney would miss it. She probably wouldn't use the tarot set for another four years and the next results would probably be twisted to be just as deadly as his.

He so much regretted choosing Divination.

 **'-.-'**

On row seventy-nine of the Hall of Prophecy a liquid filled one of the glasses circumferences and as soon as no more space was left inside the orbit a dim bluish white light lit inside. The yellowed label hanging from the three headed dragon shaped stand acquired a new decoration; writen on it with a fancy writing Phil Lester's full name appeared in the seer and person concerned name, and on the latter one his name was followed by one Daniel Howell.

A few shelves to the side, on row sixty-seven one of the old orbs that was lucky to not be destroyed during the invasion suddenly lit. It had been there for more than a century, predicted by Mírian Eerol, with a question mark on the person concerned form.

During the next few months the question mark would slowly disappear to give space to the name of its probable fulfillers during this century: Philip Lester and Daniel Howell.

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 _A/N: Soo, I still don't know how I'll complete this fic, but what I have decided is that it will definitely have only eight chapter and it will be platonic Dan and Phil. I swear it will be fun even if you are a shipper (at least I hope). I'm not taking this whole fic very seriously despite all the mystery in this chapter. The fact I'm writing using real people gives me the creeps and, honestly, makes me uncomfortable. The will to write however was more strong this time._

 _I think they will probably behave off character sometimes because the nuances of real life escape me. Anyway, hope you enjoyed this, english isn't my first language and sometimes I struggle to remember less used words (by me). See you next chapter ^.^_


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